Through the Night (poem)

Toddler awoken at 1:15

not unheard, not unseen

back to bed, close the door

a visit again at quarter to four

kicked in the back, sleep off track

remove his toe from my ass crack

this phase must stop, and soon I hope

exhausted, unrested, the end of my rope

reached beseeched cogency leeched

my mind's fertile soil

nocturnal interruptions roil

peaceful nights he does spoil

staggering off, my daily toil

hazy crazy mental mazy

this quest for rest I do my best

not much you can do

when your tormentor's two

seemless sleep, my daily dream

my kid it seems ain't on my team

From Little Things

Just trying this out. One can never be sure what will come of what one's done until one does it. It's been my experience, though, that one never does it. Ahem.
There's one, then two, and before you know it you're waking up on the couch with half a pork chop in front of you, you've missed your flight, and you're wearing someone else's shoes.